


The Stages of Grief

by Waddler



Category: Villainous (Cartoon)
Genre: Angst, Grief/Mourning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-21
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-05-09 18:56:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14721725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Waddler/pseuds/Waddler
Summary: Flug learns just what it's like to lose someone he loves.





	1. Denial

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Primilex](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Primilex/gifts).



 

This couldn’t be happening. There was no way that had just happened. Flug stood there looking down at 5.0.5, wondering why he was still laying down. Why on earth would he just _fall asleep? E_ specially in _this_ scenario? They were in the middle of a raid, and the building was on fire, but here he was, dozing on the cement floor of the base they had infiltrated. How did he even manage to fall asleep right after an explosion like that?

He took a few steps forwards and knelt down beside the bear. He placed his hand gently on the fur. The soft, blue fur that was covering the bear. He shook him lightly, calling his name and waiting for a response. He waited for a sweet little noise, or some sort of movement. He waited until there was a hand on his shoulder, pulling him away from his sweet son. He looked up and saw his boss who seemed to be yelling something, but he couldn’t hear. All he could hear was a sharp ringing.

When he realized that his the eldritch was trying to pull him to the door where a bloody and injured looking Demencia stood, he fought off the grip. It was much easier than expected, and he quickly returned to the bear’s side. He put his hand on him and shook a bit harder this time, calling louder, or what he thought was louder since he couldn’t hear.

He felt the hand return to his shoulder, but he tried to shake it off, only it was much stronger this time. He tried to pull away as the hand forced him up, probably bruising his arm. He fought as hard as he could as that cold, strong grip dragged him farther and farther away from his son. It wasn’t until he felt the soreness of his throat that he realized he’d been screaming. But he didn’t’ stop. They couldn’t leave 505 in there. They just _couldn’t._ The entire place was an inferno, and the poor bear was stuck all alone in the smoke and heat. He had to be terrified.

He saw the bright sunlight hit his goggles, and saw a metal door close in front of him, then that too hard grip finally released. And then the panic set in. He ran to the door, only to have a pair of arms wrap around his waist. He could hear shouting. Vaguely, but he could hear it. It was in a low gravelly voice, and he began to finally make out the words.

“HE’S GONE FLUG, HE’S GONE. WE HAVE TO LEAVE BEFORE THE HEROS SHOW UP!”

He could also hear a sharp sobbing, and he realized that it was both his own and Demencia’s.

“I need to go get him, he’s in there all alone! He’s probably so scared!”

He continued ot fight the grip. He _needed_ to get to his son. He had to get him out.

He heard another voice, Demencia this time.

“He’s dead flug!” her voice was hysteric, more so than usual. He coule hear the tears in her voice.

“He can’t be, I just saw him. H-he w-w w was r-right there. He’s not dead. He’s not… He can’t be”

He could hear the fight draining out of his voice. He could feel his heart break. He saw everything go black, and then he saw the mansion foyer. He felt his boss release his grip on his waist. And then, he was red.


	2. Anger

There were few things on this earth that I had yet to experience. But I could say beyond a shadow of a doubt that I had never, _ever_ been slapped. _Especially_ not by a _human_ of all things.

Suffice to say that I was beyond shocked when I felt a sharp sting on my face. I am able to process events far quicker than any mere mortal, but it took me a good twelve seconds to process what just happened. All I knew was that one moment, a grieving Flug in denial was standing in front of me, and the next, my scientist was glaring at me with a look of pure venom. If looks could kill, and I could die, I would be dead.

Having been on this planet since vey near its creation, I was well familiar with stages of grief, but seeing the sheer hatred that this instilled in my sweet, and oh so submissive scientist left me dumbfounded as I watched the young man march towards a wall and proceed to punch it hard enough to crack the plaster, and split the wallpaper. He had never shown that amount of strength.

He didn’t manage to snap out of his stupor until he heard Flug scream. It wasn’t anything in particular, but it was an enraged shout released into the air as he bashed his fist off of the wall again… and again, and again, and again, and there were more screams of anguish as he kicked the wall, and cried.

The eldritch didn’t know what had gotten into him, but he did know that he now had a frantic, struggling Flug in his arms that was trying to claw him apart. He screams turned into sobs, as he repeatedly uttered a single word: please.


	3. Bargaining

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and most definitely not sweet.

“please”. It was barely a whisper. His voice was broken and devastated.

“Pleas, please please, please _please, please, please, please **please please pleasepleaseplease!**_ He can’t be dead, it’s not possible! PLEASE! I NEED HIM, HE CAN’T BE DEAD, I’ll do anything, _anything_! I need him back, I can’t do this. I can’t go on without him, _pleeease_ …

His voice trailed off in a broken sob as he fell to his knees. This time, it was dementia who went to his side. She knelt down beside him and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close as he sobbed, uttering those same words over an over again. Please, please, please. He sobbed until his tears ran dry, and the others could hear his heart break. And then, he did nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A chapter a weak makes me feel accomplished. May not happen next time though. Depression is going to be long (in comparison to the others, probably won't breach 1000 words), and very likely the worst.
> 
> Also, I've never done something this angsty and I find it hilarious how small the number of Kudos is.


	4. Depression

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bleak, empty, and alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. It wasn't supposed to take this long.

Everything was… _wrong_. The mansion was quiet. There were no sounds of Flug making explosions and no 505 breaking things, and even Demencia a was being quiet. She walked through the halls, looking at things. That painting that she had tilted a week ago? Still tilted. That vase? Dusty. That soda spill? A sticky stain. Nothing had been cleaned or repaired or invented.

Her boss wasn’t even mad about it. He sat in his room silent and didn’t even punish flug for not doing anything. When she asked him why, he said something about ‘letting him grieve’. She let it go. She would never say it aloud, but… She missed Flug. He never left his room which had all the vents boarded up because of her. She _never_ saw him anymore. She was left alone to wander the mansion. She had already broken everything in the lab and that got boring a while ago. She couldn’t torment 505 because… well, she started to cry when she thought about him, and she was doing it now, so she should probably stop, but it was too late. A tear landed on the floor, one of many from her, the only resident in the mansion still leaving their rooms, and it was about to be the starter of a long trail as the flow continued.

She walked more. Now she was passing Flug’s door. He’s usually sobbing inside, but now he’s not. He can probably hear her sobbing. She’s being pretty loud. He may be asleep thought. She keeps walking. She doesn’t want to wake him. He usually never sleeps. She keeps walking. She just keeps walking. That’s all she does. She doesn’t run, she doesn’t jump, she doesn’t climb or crawl anymore, she just walks, tired and sad and sluggishly.

Now, she walks past her boss’s office. He’s silent. He’s always silent. He may not even be in there anymore. She hasn’t seen him in forever. She walks more. She walks to the kitchen. It’s empty. It has been for… how long has it been? When was the last time she’s eaten anything other than bugs? She can’t remember, but bugs are good enough. She is a lizard after all.

Now she walks to the lab. She doesn’t know why. It always makes her sad. Her constant numbness splits open she bursts like a dam. She spews tears like the pipes she based open months ago. She opens the door and the tears are flowing more now. She looks around at the empty room and…. _Wait_ … It’s not empty. There, in the center of the room, working on fixing the water, is Flug, and he’s not crying. He even looks like he’s wearing clean clothes. She runs up and tackles him in a hug.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know it probably didn't work, but I tried to use simple language to convey the feeling of empty sadness that comes with depression but it got lost and the writing just looks groggy and pale and it's not good.


End file.
